Just over 3 years ago now I wrote my first ever piece for a friend’s movie blog, all about what watching a movie was like with a newborn (if you’re interested the link is -—>HERE). It’s hard to believe that was so long ago, now here I sit like a young J.K. Rowling on my diamond encrusted couch producing scriptures that change people’s lives and fill my pockets with gold.

Looking back and reading the piece I was surprised about two things; 1) The fact that it’s practically a Play School script; no mention of genitals or my sex life anywhere, and 2) Three years on I don’t think watching a movie has become any easier. Let’s discuss…

So my then newborn Iggy is now 3. On a standard day there comes a point where the television is minding the child while I’m completing some monotone task and trying to think of an activity for the day. I can’t just go and have her staring at a mind numbing television all day can I? I know! I’ll take her to an even bigger television! One 20 times the size! One that costs money! And when purchasing tickets there’s behaviour altering food for as far as her little eyes can see! One of everything please!

NOTE: I don’t even care for my own poor attitude toward the movies right now, no matter what I type, don’t listen to me. Moving your child from in front of the television to the cinemas is a totally creative and acceptable activity. You’re doing a great job!

So on the movie food thing I am a little bit of a bastard. Pretty much if you’re asking for more than a small popcorn you’re asking the wrong guy. Sure, if our eldest Juliet is there they may share a packet of lollies too, but that’s where the excitement ends, I’m all about a small popcorn and bottled water for Iggy. No 3 year old needs to drink 3 days worth of their daily sugar intake in 6 minutes. I once got Iggy an apple juice because I thought I was making a reasonable nutritional decision, then Iggy spent the next 4 days with bloodshot eyes grinding her teeth, holding a plastic knife to her Cabbage Patch Doll’s neck and screaming at people “Juice! Or the bitch gets it”. I do have to buy everyone separate popcorn though, I promise you this; you’ll only share popcorn with a kid once, nobody makes that mistake twice. My brother took Iggy to the movies once and had to do a mid-film candy bar run during the great popcorn shortage of 2015. Kid is the human vacuum cleaner of popcorn enthusiasts. Anyway, onto the actual movie…on this specific occasion we are seeing The Good Dinosaur, or as Iggy demands it be called, Pixar’s The Good Dinosaur.

Found your seats? Check. Booster seat for Iggy? Check. Pre-movie toilet stop? Shit. Back out we go, better missing a preview or two than missing an important part of the film right? We’re back! As each preview starts Iggy takes her face out of the popcorn for long enough to inform me that “this isn’t Pixar’s Good Dinosaur!”. Thanks Iggy, I was freaking out for a second there. As the movie starts, like literally 3 seconds in Iggy hands me her empty popcorn container and states that she doesn’t want any more…clearly you don’t champ, it’s not like you’ve been licking the salt off the lid of the box in desperation for the last 2 minutes…

Then she starts on this weird tangent…”there’s a pixar” she says…”there’s a pixar” again…”there’s a pixar”…you get the point. She’s not even referring to any specific creature on the screen, it appears to be a remark containing zero consistency. So in a packed cinema, 2 minutes into the film I’m trying to explain to a kid that Pixar is in fact the American computer animation company responsible for creating the movie, not a creature in itself…to which Iggy responds with a face that makes me feel like a Cabbage Patch Doll about to get its throat cut. I don’t really care what she thinks a pixar is to be honest, I just don’t want to be the people talking in the cinema.

I get a good 20 minutes of peace before she starts to wriggle around. Over the next 15 minutes we try a number of different viewing positions. The booster gets retired, then she tries my lap, standing up seems to be a favourite and then there’s a 4 minute discussion about why an adult isn’t allowed to sit in the booster seat. Ending back exactly where we started with Iggy in the booster beside me. She then does exactly what I expect when she doesn’t get her way…”I need to wee” she informs me. Excellent, so the child that can magically go 5 hours without a piss, somehow now, after only ingesting corn, salt and a butter substitute can’t last 40 minutes. Out we go, missing what is hopefully not an important part of the film.

On the toilet, things proceed as expected. Iggy makes a plethora of stupid faces that are in no way actually associated with going to the bathroom, they are her fake pushing faces…what a surprise. To spite me, she releases a minimum of 2 drops but no more than 3 drops of urine and in a condescending tone states, “I told you I needed to wee”. She’s right, I have no leg to stand on. Let’s just get back to the film.

“Where did the pixars go” she states as we return to our seats. I’m so excited that we’re back to this again. Once again I state that Pixar is in fact the American computer animation company responsible for creating the movie, not a creature in itself. It’s apparent we have missed important information, and worse than that, Iggy’s invisible friends the pixars have vanished. The next 20 minutes involve musical chairs again, at one point she sits 4 chairs away from me facing backwards and watches the film by staring directly at the projector’s lense. Again this ends with her back on her booster beside me.

It’s 10 minutes before she stirs again, it must be that she is enjoying it…or it could be that she’s now finished MY popcorn then torn open the box and is licking the inside clean. Boy, lucky I didn’t get that apple juice I would hate for my child to eat something lacking nutritional value. I fear if I don’t intervene she may begin the process of ingesting the cardboard.

Luckily, like most films, with the end of the film comes tension and in turn captivates Iggy for its remainder. It is sad though…happy/sad actually…and there I am in a room full of parents and children crying silent tears of masculinity. Iggy watches a tear as it rolls down my strong manly 5 o’clock shadow covered cheek and asks me…”are you sad because one of the pixar’s died dad?”…What fucking movie was this kid watching? Nobody died! PIXAR IS AN AMERICAN BASED COMPUTER ANIMATION COMPANY RESPONSIBLE FOR CREATING THE MOVIE!!! I’m so happy we didn’t just stay at home and watch Frozen for the 400th time.

Look, I’m not saying that I wouldn’t take Iggy to the movies again, I’m just saying that next time it’s going to have Mark Wahlberg in it and Iggy’s getting a bigger popcorn.